28. Bethany
Chapter 28
Bethany
M ollie is such a character, a bundle of energy, and a chatterbox. The boys never talked this much at her age. Hell, they don’t talk much now. On most days, all I receive from them are terse sentences and monosyllabic grunts. I think she’s talked more this first hour than they’ve said all year. I’m not even kidding.
As soon as we finish eating, I tell the older kids to get ready if they’re coming with us. My sons packed a duffel bag with everything they needed for their costumes. I haven’t a clue what costumes they’re wearing. If I’m being honest, I’m a little worried. As boys, they live for the scary shit. The gorier the better. And with Mollie being only four, I don’t want them to scare her.
While I’m cleaning up, the little chatter box helps. When she stops talking, I glance behind me to find her staring out of the kitchen and into the living room. Her mouth is wide open.
I follow her line of sight and can’t help the laugh that sneaks out. “When did you get those?”
Running for the boys, Mollie lets out a squeal. “Buzz and Woody!”
Finn picks her up and spins her around. “What else would we be? Little Boo Peep needs her friends.”
“Wait until you see what we got for Kellie.” Felix looks ridiculous in the cheap Woody onesie.
“Howdy!” Riding a stick horse, Kellie comes galloping into the room. “Who’s ready to go round up some candy?”
“Jessie!” With a wiggle, Mollie escapes Finn’s grasp and jumps for joy. “This is perfect. Take our picture, Miss Beth.”
I round up the crew and snap a few pictures. “Say cheese.”
Once we’re done, the gang grabs the stack of buckets Nolan set out for us and we pile into my new SUV.
“Are we going to see Mommy now?” Mollie asks from her booster seat between the boys. “I can’t wait to show her my new family.”
The noise level in the vehicle quiets. It’s not like we’ve discussed this before.
How did I not see this coming?
She’s four. Lost her mom before she even knew what having a mom was like. So, it’s only logical that she’d latch on and want to make us hers.
Reality hits me square in the face, but I do my best to keep the mood upbeat. “And we can’t wait to meet your mommy, can we, boys?”
In the passenger seat, Kellie sees past my mask, seeing me for who I am. “We should put on some music. Who wants to listen to the Toy Story soundtrack?”
My lips form the words “thank you,” a silent gratitude escaping as the shame of my weakness shines. With their joyful singing echoing in the car, the drive becomes a revelation, highlighting details I’ve chosen to ignore. She’s not the only one who’s started thinking of us as a family. I mean, seriously. Look at the boys. They fucking dressed up as Disney characters all because of the little angel seated next to them.
How did I did I let this happen?
As the car stops, my boys spring into action to help Mollie while I silently battle the rising tide of anxiety, my breath hitching in my throat. I haven’t suffered a panic attack like this in what feels like forever. While I pull my shit together; she leads them down the path to a bench in front of a wall with several engraved names.
Kellie hangs back. Tension visible in the way she holds herself.
Climbing out of the car, I take a deep breath. “You okay?” I ask as I lay a hand on her shoulder.
With a subtle nod, she lifts her gaze to meet mine, a silent question in her eyes. “Is it normal for her to be this happy in a place like this?”
“Keep in mind that Mollie doesn’t really remember your mother like you do. To her, this is normal. Your dad has normalized coming here and sharing with your mother the happy events of your lives, which is good. It makes her feel connected to your mom. Does it bother you?”
“Maybe.” Kellie shrugs. “I just think it’s weird or looks weird. You know? No one else comes here jumping around all excited to talk to a fancy stone with a name scrolled on it.”
We look around. The cemetery is nearly deserted; only a handful of people are here watching us. There’s no judgment in their expressions. A couple of them smile sadly, watching Mollie bounce around while she chats to the marble slab.
“Can I ask you something?” Kellie’s question brings my attention back to her, and I nod. “Are you going to break our hearts?”
Her question hits me in the chest like a ton of bricks and has me wrapping my arms around her tight. “I don’t want to.”
“I know. But I saw your face when Mollie blurted out her unfiltered thoughts.” Breaking free, she steps away from me. “We’ll be okay. You don’t have to worry. But don’t string my dad or Mollie along if, in the end, you don’t plan on being around forever. It’s best to end it now, before they get too attached.”
What the hell?
I stand there unable to speak as I watch Kellie paste on a smile before she joins the others. What if I’m the one who’s too attached, even though I’m not ready? I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.
Damn you, Nolan.
This is why I never wanted to get involved to begin with. All relationships eventually bring heartbreak. If it’s not because of a breakup, then it’s because of a loss. We all eventually die. My mom died when I was a little girl. Stephanie died, leaving her daughters and husband behind to miss her. There’s no happily ever after, because in the end, this is what we all have to look forward to. A memorial for those we left behind to come and mourn. Why the hell would I ever want that?
Tears sting the backs of my eyes, but I hold them back. I can’t think about what I need to do, not tonight. There’s a little girl counting on me to make this the best night ever, and I plan to do just that.
I give my head a good shake and walk up to where the kids are all sitting. “We better get going or all the candy will be gone.”
Mollie springs up, seizes the boys’ hands, and tries to drag them to the SUV. “Bye Mommy. I’ll have Daddy bring me back in a few days. Love you.”
Kellie gently lays her hand on her mother’s name. “Love you. Miss you.”
“Come on, sissy.” Mollie hollers from halfway up the path. “Hurry up.”
The young preteen drops her hand and rushes up the path to join the others.
I pause for a moment, then walk over to the cold stone and put my hand on it. “You have a wonderful family. I wish I could help them, but I’m not sure I’m the right person for the job.”
A cold chill travels up my arm as the wind swirls around me. It’s like I can feel this woman’s anger for misleading them and not being stronger.
With a sigh, I let my hand drop and lower my head, my vision blurring slightly. “I’m sorry.”
No one answers, of course, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel her spirit or hear her words echoing around me as I walk away. “They don’t need you to be sorry, they need you to be brave.”